


So Choice

by happyisahabit



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: (Black Star/Soul Evans), (Maka Albarn & Soul Evans), (Soul Eater Evans), (background Jackim and Clay/Akane), F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Quick minor character appearances, Soul Eater Rarepair Day, Wes is a good bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 08:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyisahabit/pseuds/happyisahabit
Summary: Maka knows Soul has a brother, but he's always been more theoretical than real until that moment.(Or, Black Star throws a party for his boyfriend then his best friend at his boyfriend's brother.)
Relationships: Maka Albarn & Black Star, Maka Albarn/Wes Evans
Kudos: 8





	So Choice

Technically, Maka knew that Soul had a brother. It was just another fact about him, like his hair being white, his eyes being red, his hands full of music. 

Somehow it never occurred to her that she would actually meet him.

Yet, there stands Wes Evans, nursing a beer and laughing at some story that Akane was telling. It was likely something embarrassing and far too personal, considering the deep red on Clay’s face and the gleeful look on Akane’s. Maka takes the moment to observe, wanting to categorize this new person. Wes is tall and lanky like his brother, but the eight years between them have sharpened his features and broadened his shoulders in ways that Soul’s hadn’t yet, even at 24. His hair is well-kept and pale with just a shade more color to it than Soul’s snowy white.

He has a nice smile, she thinks absently. 

“YO! Maks, what’s good?” A rough arm follows the loud voice, hooking around her neck and nearly making her spill her drink. Black Star hangs from around her shoulders, already inebriated and loving it. He had organized this party for his long-time boyfriend and was taking full advantage of it.

“Star, you stink,” she grumbles at her oldest friend. He’s disgustingly cheerful, and while she’s happy that her two best friends have found happiness with each other, she wishes Black Star could smile rainbows and puppies at someone else sometimes. Or at least pop a mint if he was going to turn his mouth into a flame hazard from vodka. She vastly preferred sober Star when she wasn’t tipsy herself.

“Mak,” he whines, tugging her harder into his armpit, making her regret wearing a halter top since Black Star lives in sleeveless tanks. “Don’t be mean!”

“Not mean if it’s true!” she says. He sticks his tongue out at her, she returns the gesture and just like that, their banter subsides. Other than Black Star’s lack of personal space and his alcohol breath, he’s a comfortable weight at her side. She shifts to accommodate him, arm across his back. He plops his head down on hers with a happy sigh.

“This party is awesome,” he grins. It is, she has to hand it to him. Soul’s first musical score had been picked for an off-broadway production, so Black Star had decided to throw his man an epic party after the first rehearsal. It is mostly friends, but some family, too. Both Maka and Black Star’s dads are here, chatting with family friends like Dr. Stein, who had been one of their college professors as well. The real surprise was that anyone other than Soul from the Evans family had arrived.

Not that Black Star had invited Soul’s unsupportive parents.

“And where is the man of the hour?” Maka asks, turning them on the spot to look through the throng of bodies huddled around the food and drink tables, out on the dancefloor and generally just milling about. Soul is nowhere in sight.

“Probably hiding in the bathroom after his brother told him he was proud of him.”

“No, you’re not serious!” she pulls away to look up at him. Black Star just shrugs, unapologetic.

“Soul’s overwhelmed. He’s been avoiding Wes for a long time, but I took his number from Soul’s cell,” he says. “I’ve been texting him status updates on our dear theater nerd for  _ months _ and none of it was met with anything but full-on, enthusiastic approval.”

“So the classical violinist of the century approves of death gallows humor romantic musicals now?” Maka muses, taking a sip of her spiked punch with a smile. Seems the mythical brother is a good one after all.

Black Star grins down at her.

“Not just two thumbs way up, but  _ double stand-up choice _ ,” he says, doing the motion they’d all agreed on as even better than a thumbs up while they were delirious with sleep deprivation in college. Two ‘OK’ hand signs bouncing in the air while he stands with the most pompous posture and expression he can. Maka nearly doubles over in laughter.

“If I’d known that was the sign, I would have used that,” a smooth voice says behind her. “But really, I just asked for Soul’s autograph.”

Maka whips around as Black Star greets the man behind her with a loud ‘Wes!’ The man’s tall frame leans down towards her and Maka suddenly rues the day that Black Star had surpassed her in height. Now she’s surrounded on all sides by people who can talk literally over her head. 

“You slick bastard!” Black Star shouts happily, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder from around Maka. She doesn’t think she could feel any shorter. “S’no wonder Soul locked himself in the bathroom if that’s what you said to him!”

“Do you really think so?” Wes laughs. “I guess it is weird to ask for your own little brother’s signature.”

“It’s more because it’s  _ you _ than because of that,” Maka says. She pushes Black Star’s arm and shifts so she isn’t sandwiched between the two tall men anymore. “Soul looks up to you and  _ you’re _ the critically acclaimed musician.”

“Ah well, I’m not sure I’m all that great,” Wes demures, scratching the back of his head in a way that is a carbon copy of Soul when he can’t take a compliment. “I don’t write my own music or do arrangements or anything. Everything I play is someone else’s hard work. Some might even say I have gotten this far just because of Maestro Evans’ influence.”

“Aw, don’t get so down on yourself,” Black Star says. He waves a hand at Wes as if to shoo away the topic, but Maka can only continue her observation of Wes Evans. He has a slip of a smile on his face, yet there are lines around his eyes like when Soul presses ‘reject’ on any call with his home area code on it. “And don’t go bringing up that sort of person today; it’s a party!”

Wes doesn’t seem to mind the slight against his father and just continues to smile. “And you must be Miss Maka, correct? Soul’s mentioned you on the rare occasion he answers my calls, not to mention what Black Star says in his texts. All good things, I assure you.”

He holds out a hand and Maka flushes as she realizes she hadn’t introduced herself yet. She quickly takes his offered palm to shake as her mind rushes through all the possible things that Black Star and Soul could have said about her. In such a frazzled state, she doesn’t think any of them could be good despite what Wes said. 

“Y-yes, I’m Maka. Nice to meet you!”

“Mak, don’t be so stiff, or I’m gonna funnel more booze down your throat,” Black Star teases. Her hand is still warmly encapsulated by Wes’ while Black Star pulls on her hair. “Don’t let her fool you, Wes. She’s a wild child, no need to treat her like a high society lady from after parties you’re probably used to.”

“I wouldn’t dare presume Miss Maka requires compliments from me, but I can tell you I’m only an honest man,” Wes says, brown eyes crinkling at their corners.

Her friend’s grin is too wide and Wes hasn’t let go of her hand yet.

“Two more things, then, Wes: Maka likes older men…. And she’s single.”

In the moment before Maka can turn around and smack him, Black Star disappears. She can still hear his cackling from somewhere in the room. Flushed, she turns back to Wes. He still has a hold on her hand, delicately like she’s spun glass. There’s amusement in his expression when she faces him, too stubborn to be cowed by her embarrassment. It’s a gentle sort of expression that slowly defuses her ire at her blue haired idiot.

The noise of the people and music around them kicks up when the number one most energetic party host returns to the fold. There’s a raucous cheer from the makeshift dance floor and the bass thumps a little louder. Wes places the beer in his hand down on the counter and tugs her lightly with the other.

“Would you like to talk somewhere quieter?”

Maka nods quickly and leads him out of the room onto the back porch. Jackie squeaks from where Kim is all over her on one of the gliding chairs. Maka sidesteps them as the girl hastily shuffles her girlfriend back inside. Jackie is as red as Maka is, but Kim looks unrepentant and Maka doesn’t want to know how Wes reacted. When the porch door slides shut, the noises of the party are abruptly muted. She stiffly moves and sits in the gliding chair that wasn’t occupied by Kim and Jackie.

Wes sits next to her and they’re quiet for a moment until Wes pushes back to start a rocking motion. Kim and Jackie’s former chair creaks horribly and gets jammed as soon as it starts to move forward. There’s another beat, a pause, where Maka’s eyes widen and Wes freezes. Then they’re both laughing and sputtering at the absurdity that the chair may have been broken by a makeout session.

“You can bet I’m gonna use the hell out of this on Jackie next time I need to borrow a book or something,” Maka giggles, wiping a tear from her eye. “Trying to blackmail Kim is hopeless, but Jackie? Honestly… breaking other people’s furniture…”

Wes lets out a happy laugh and she looks up at him. His expression is more open than before and the way the dying evening sun and the stringed lights on the patio roof tint his eyes whiskey almost make her breath catch.  _ Why did he have to be attractive?  _ It was just Soul’s brother!

“I’m so glad,” he says. “You finally seem more relaxed. I wasn’t sure you liked me.”

It should be illegal for a voice to sound like melted chocolate.

“Why wouldn’t I like you?”

Wes hums. “Because I know what Soul says about his family, how he feels. I wouldn’t blame you if I was put in that category. I wasn’t always the best brother to him.”

Maka regards him carefully and sits up straight. Pulling her hands into her lap, she twists them together for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “I think Soul knew you were trying, in the ways you could. He wouldn’t admire you so much if you weren’t a good brother.”

“I wonder about that,” Wes trails. His eyes lose focus as he stares at the middleground.

“Believe me, if Soul didn’t love you, Black Star wouldn’t have ever contacted you,” Maka asserts. “And Soul wouldn’t be hiding in his room out of equal parts embarrassment and elation because you asked for his autograph.”

“And what would you do?”

Whiskey colored eyes lock on bottle green and Maka wishes there was at least one measly summer breeze in the night air for her. 

“If I ever saw you, I’d roundhouse kick you into next week.”

Wes laughs again, harder than before. “To be expected, after all I’ve heard about the famous Maka Albarn!” He looks up through his bangs at her when his chuckles die down with a lopsided smile. “I’ll endeavour to never be on the receiving end of your steel toed boots.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about me,” Maka hedges. “I feel at a disadvantage since Soul doesn’t talk much about you.”

“I’m an open book for you, Maka,” he says. “And all my knowledge about you is just hearsay. I have to verify everything on my own; you know, trust but verify.”

The sun has well and truly sunk below the horizon by the time someone comes looking for either of them. Maka finds Wes easy to talk to and the more she does, the more observations she can add to various lists she keeps in her head. He has tells similar to Soul’s that let her read him; he confides his hobbies and aspirations outside of classical music; he’s compiled truths and lies Black Star has told about her. She catalogs the pattern of his voice when telling a story versus expressing an opinion or stating a fact. She’s a private person, but candid with close friends, and even moreso with him and his likeness to her best friend. He asks her to confirm various stories Black Star has told about her, Soul and himself. He requests answers to fill in for things Black Star hadn’t talked or known about.

He genuinely asks about  _ her _ . And that, above all his smooth voice, handsome face and gentle personality, makes her pulse stutter in her veins.

When Soul finally cracks open the sliding door, they’re surprised it has gotten so late.

“I was looking for both of you,” Soul says, eyes moving between the two of them. “Star’s announced it’s time for cake.”

“What?” Wes asks, clearly not understanding why that would be relevant. Maka waves her hand dismissively, catching his attention.

“No, no, it’s like a whole thing with him,” she says. “We’d better just go in.”

“Alright then, but Maka-” he starts to get up, but a loud creaking noise interrupts him. Halfway to standing, he and Maka stare at each other before completely losing it in another round of laughter.

“What..?” Soul asks in utter confusion as Wes moves to support Maka on their way in. Too doubled-over with giggles, she doesn’t admonish him for the hands on her elbow and at the small of her back as they walk past Soul.

“Oh don’t worry about it, Soul,” Maka manages to get out. “We’re just going to go in on getting Jackie and Kim an oil can if they ever have a housewarming party or something.”

Soul makes a noise of distress, still out of the loop and thrown by how his best friend and brother are suddenly such bosom buddies. Wes pats him on the shoulder as if to say ‘what can you do?’ then pulls him inside with them. Black Star is indeed in the center of the room, with a massive cake, and grabs Soul as soon as he sees him.

His speech on the merits of his boyfriend is long and loud and Soul’s face grows as red as his eyes. Maka only eggs Black Star on and whistles at Soul along with their other friends. A cold bottle is pressed to her cheek and startles her as Black Star finally gets to cutting the cake and ostentatiously handing the first piece-  _ “A middle one, just like you like, with an icing rose!” _ \- to Soul. Wes’ hand holds the bottle and he looks down at her with warm eyes.

“We talked for quite a while, thought you might like some water,” he says. She accepts the bottle and waits, familiar with the way Evans boys shift on their feet when thinking about what to say. “Maka, I’d like to keep talking if you do, too. Do you like coffee?”

Maka grins and the warmth in her skin flutters into her chest and stomach.

“Absolutely.”

Wes’ smile is brighter than any of the others he’s shown that night. He slips away to get them slices of cake and Maka’s eye catches on the bright blue and white combo of her best friends. Black Star is whispering in Soul’s ear and he looks thoughtful for a moment before his gaze snaps up to meet hers. Star grins wildly, gaze flicking between her and Wes, and then Maka has to blush heavily and groan. The pair of them stand straighter, with their hands bouncing ‘a-okay’ symbols in the air, knowing smirks on their faces.

_ Double  _ double stand-up choice. 

Those bastards.


End file.
